


bruises on your thighs like my fingerprints

by JustThePlanets



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Daddy Kink, Fluff and Smut, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Morning Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 09:17:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19943779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustThePlanets/pseuds/JustThePlanets
Summary: Pat’s not going to lie, he thinks about Brian’s thighsa lot.How could he not? Especially in the summer when Brian spends half of his time prancing around in his jorts, showing off his beautiful, strong legs, the denim stretching tight around the meat of his thighs. It’s overwhelming, and Pat is a simple man, he never really considered the possibility, but now that it’s presented to him?Well, now Pat is dying to fuck those thighs.





	bruises on your thighs like my fingerprints

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks again to segmentcalled for beta-ing. They are amazing and I would die for them. Please check out their stuff if you haven't already, because it's fantastic.

Patrick is not a morning person, but there’s something to be said about waking up with his face buried in Brian’s hair while the sun streams in through his bedroom window, catching floating specs of dust in its rays. 

He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Brian’s conditioner and maybe a few stray hairs find their way into his nose too, but that’s fine. He scrunches up his nose and shakes his head slightly to dislodge them. Pat has one arm around Brian’s chest, trapped in place by Brian’s loose grip on it. The other arm is pinned under Brian’s pillow, hopelessly asleep, but Pat can’t bring himself to move it and risk disturbing Brian. 

Pat watches the rise and fall of Brian’s chest, enraptured by the man as always. He’s just as mesmerizing in his sleep - his face soft, his mouth open just the slightest bit, saliva caught at the corner of his mouth, almost drooling, but not quite - as he is when he’s flitting around, full of chaotic energy as he bounces from one idea to the next. God, he loves him so much. 

Pat doesn’t know how long it takes for Brian to wake up, too absorbed in cataloging the details of his body, the chipped purple nail polish on his fingers, the trail of hair underneath his belly button, obscured by the blanket that Pat’s mostly been hogging, the way his lashes flutter in his sleep. Pat is counting the light freckles that always show up on his shoulders in the summer when Brian’s hand tightens around Pat’s wrist. 

Brian wakes up slowly, first pulling Pat closer to him, then stretching his legs out as he breathes in deep. He lets out a satisfied groan when his ankle pops, and finally his eyes open. 

“Good morning,” Pat mumbles into the nape of Brian’s neck.

“Heyyyy, beautiful,” Brian says, turning his head so he can look Pat in the eye. 

Pat feels himself flush, still not used to being described as beautiful. He’s a little embarrassed about it, but in a pleased way, because _Brian_ , the most gorgeous man Pat has ever laid eyes on, thinks Pat is beautiful. It’s a lot sometimes, but Pat is ever so grateful for the hand that fate dealt him. 

Brian cups Pat’s cheek in one hand and pulls him into a kiss, seemingly uncaring of the morning breath they both have. Pat doesn’t care either, not really, not if it means being closer to Brian. 

They kiss slow and unhurried, their mouths moving together, not in sync, but harmonizing, creating a melody that’s not perfect, but that’s just so _them_ . There’s no real heat behind it, only the desire to be close and warmth and _love_.

It’s the epitome of a lazy Sunday morning, until Brian starts rocking his hips, gentle at first - the only reason Pat even notices is because one of his legs is still caught between Brian’s from the night before. Then, he gets more insistent, pressing his ass against Pat’s morning wood with _intent._

Pat detaches his mouth and says, “Jesus Christ, Bri.”

Brian doesn’t respond, instead he busies his mouth with the skin of Pat’s neck, lightly sucking just to the left of his adam’s apple. 

Pat gives in - not that he was resisting really - and rolls his hips forward, rubbing his clothed cock against the cleft of Brian’s ass. God, why did they both put boxers on before falling asleep last night? 

“You should fuck me,” Brian says as he pushes his boxers down. 

Pat follows his lead and frees his own cock. “Of course, baby boy, whatever you want,” he says, his voice thick and rough from sleep and arousal both. His fingers drift to Brian’s ass, and he presses his index finger against Brian’s hole, still a little loose from last night. 

Brian moans and one of his hands finds Pat’s hair and he tangles his fingers in it. “N-not there,” Brian says, breathless. 

Pat immediately withdraws, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Oh? Tell me what you need, Bri.”

Brian just whines in response and reaches behind him to grab Pat’s cock. Pat sucks in a breath and tries not to buck into his touch. Brian opens his legs and guides him between them, closing his thighs tight around Pat’s dick. 

Pat’s not going to lie, he thinks about Brian’s thighs _a lot._ How could he not? Especially in the summer when Brian spends half of his time prancing around in his jorts, showing off his beautiful, strong legs, the denim stretching tight around the meat of his thighs. It’s overwhelming, and Pat is a simple man, he never really considered the possibility, but now that it’s presented to him?

Well, now Pat is dying to fuck those thighs. 

Pat rolls his hips experimentally, then winces at the unexpected friction. “Baby boy,” he says with a gasp, “I’m gonna need some lube here.”

“Oh!” Brian leans forward unexpectedly, finally freeing Pat’s arms and he immediately misses Brian’s warmth. He keeps his legs firmly in place though, which Pat - and his dick - are very thankful for. 

It only takes a couple of seconds, the lube is right where they left it last night, precariously close to the edge of the nightstand, then Brian is back in Pat’s arms, where he belongs. 

“Sorry,” Brian says sheepishly. 

Pat takes the lube from Brian and kisses him. “Don’t worry about it. I know how excited you get about my cock.” Pat lifts one of Brian’s legs and uncaps the bottle. 

“Mmm, yeah, daddy, I do,” Brian whines as Pat spreads the lube between his thighs, not taking the time to let it warm before it makes contact with Brian’s skin. “Please…”

“Please, what?” Pat asks, still holding Brian’s thighs apart, his cock still resting between them. He rocks his hips forward a little, just to drag it along Brian’s leg, teasing. 

Brian tries to close his legs, writhing in Pat’s grasp when Pat only forces them apart again. He needs to hear Brian ask, it’s only fair after he tried to get Pat to fuck him without lube. Brian groans in frustration, his hand tightening in Pat’s hair. Pat digs his fingers into the meat of Brian’s thigh - a warning. 

Then, Brian goes limp. He says, “Please fuck me, daddy,” Brian breathes out, “Use me to get off.” 

And well - Pat can’t argue with that. Pat closes Brian’s legs around his cock, groaning at the pressure as he presses them together. Then he just goes to town. 

He doesn’t bother holding back, purely chasing his own pleasure, just like Brian asked. He thrusts into the warmth of Brian’s thighs with no rhythm, his hips stuttering because he’s already so damn close.

Brian keeps making little hitching breaths and half whines. He rocks forward, trying to get some friction on his own cock, but that wasn’t the agreement, was it? So Pat digs his fingers into the skin where thigh meets hip and growls out, “None of that, baby boy.”

Brian simply whines in response, trying to wiggle out of Pat’s grip, but Pat doesn’t let him. With his free hand he twists his fingers into Brian’s hair and _pulls._

Pat forces his hips to still. “If you can’t lay here and take it, then maybe I should find another way to get off.” Pat slips into this role easily, like donning his favorite hoodie. When Brian’s being a brat it’s just instinctual at this point, because he knows that this is what Brian really wants. 

“No, please,” Brian gasps when Pat yanks his head back, “I’m sorry, daddy, I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Hmm,” Pat hums in thought, and starts thrusting again, lazily dragging his cock between Brian’s muscular thighs. “We’ll see about that.”

Brian doesn’t respond, not verbally at least. He tightens his legs, clenching around Pat’s dick in a way that makes Pat see stars. Pat lets out a soft moan, and gets right back to fucking him right. 

Pat tries to drag it out, really. He wants to delay Brian’s satisfaction by delaying his own, because he knows that’s what Brian wants - what he needs right now. But between the soft, wet heat around his cock, and the beautiful way Brian twists, ever so slightly, in his grasp is too much to handle, and soon enough his coming all over Brian’s thighs with Brian’s name on his lips. 

Pat lets go of Brian’s hair and buries his face in his neck. He just breathes for a minute as his cock softens, still cocooned in Brian’s legs. 

He waits until Brian’s squirming reaches its peak before Pat takes pity on him and swipes his hand through his come and wraps it around Brian’s cock. 

He lets go of Brian’s thigh - and a part of him hopes that it bruises; bruises just look so pretty on Brian’s skin - and says, “Go ahead, baby.”

Brian makes a high-pitched noise that sounds as if it were ripped from his throat, and he thrusts desperately into Pat’s hand. Pat doesn’t help him, content to sit back and watch Brian get himself off as he whispers praise into his ear, “You’re so good for me, baby boy, look how gorgeous you are. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

It doesn’t take long at all. Only a couple of thrusts before Brian is coming all over his stomach and Pat’s sheets. Pat holds him through the aftershocks, pressing soft kisses along the line of his neck until he goes limp in Pat’s arms.

Pat brushes away a lock of sweaty hair that fell into Brian’s face and kisses him softly. Brian hums into his mouth, the sound full of contentment as Brian finally, _finally,_ turns so he can probably wrap himself around Pat, getting come all over the both of them, which is fine really. They’re going to have to shower soon anyway. 

“What a way to wake up, huh?” Pat says, because he’s a dork. 

“Yeah, Pat Gill,” Brian says, his smile brighter than the rays of sun that drift across his face. “I can’t think of a better way.”

There’s still an entire day ahead of them. He needs to feed Charlie and do laundry. At some point Pat’s going to have to get ready to face his subscribers on Twitch. But for now, this moment is the only place Pat could ever want to be. 


End file.
